Breakfast On Pluto
by tysunkete
Summary: AU. Attorney Kanda hates coffee, so he had no idea why he kept returning to the coffee shop across the street. LaviYuu.
1. Chapter 1

Notes:

I have to confess. This story is based off **I've Got Nothing To Do Today But Smile (The Only Living Boy in New York)** by **gyzym**, who is a brilliant _brilliant_ author. I love her Inception and Avengers fics, especially _we were emergencies_ that is the best fic I've ever read in my life. The original is Inception Arthur/Eames, but because no one in this fandom writes LaviYuu anymore, I had to try it out myself. I hope it's not too similar to be plagiarism but if it is, I will take it down. I still had to research about coffee because I hate coffee and everything D:

Also major apologies on any lawyering inaccuracies. Even if I live with two people who study law, the whole thing just eludes me.

* * *

_go anywhere without leaving your chair_

_living within all the dreams you can spin_

* * *

Kanda wonders what the _fuck_ he was thinking when he went into law school. He can't even remember why he did it. He still isn't particularly excellent in English but he is fluent, having been brought up in London since he was nine. He doesn't like going through paperwork, especially huge thick stacks of it that requires him to sit still on end to go through the dreary clauses. He dislikes his stupid clients—bigshots with too much money and feet to trample on anyone smaller, and the worst part of that is that his job is the one that makes it happen.

And also, he fucking hates his boss.

There's a reason why he stays in the office past twelve everyday feeling like his soul is being sucked out of his eyes, there's a reason why he doesn't remember how a good comfy bed feels like for more than four hours anymore, there's a reason why he works so _hard—_because he wants to get promoted and have a better shit pay then he gets for the number of hours he works, but, his _boss_.

Every day he stumbles home into his empty apartment and empty life, numb, too tired to really care that he hasn't touched his kendo practice grab in months.

He wonders why he even wants to be promoted.

* * *

It is one of those days that Kanda finds himself blinking at the sunlight streaming in from his office window. He pauses because he really can't remember how many hours had passed, but there's got to be many involved if it's morning already. He glances back down at his laptop and realises he's been typing in romanji for a good four pages, and curses, because he has to retype everything later _if_ he had even been typing coherent things.

He stretches with a yawn because his neck hurts from bending over for so long, and just by chance, he squints out of the window. There isn't anything particularly interesting outside, and he knows this. The street that his window faces is generally quiet, but it seems that today is slightly different.

There's a man with the reddest hair he had ever seen carting a chalkboard sign in his hands, ambling slowly with the weight to put it outside a new coffee place that just opened across the street about a day or so ago. Kanda is on the third floor, and it's close enough to see the other fairly clearly—lean figure decked in a green shirt and dark jeans, an eyepatch covering one eye, and bandanna that kept his hair up.

Kanda returns back to his work, and ten minutes later he blinks because he hasn't written anything down.

He chalks this up to brain stress and looks outside the window again.

The man isn't there anymore, but now that chalkboard says **ALL** **UR COFFEE R BELONG TO US**.

"Fuck," Kanda mutters, rubbing his eyes, and decides he needs a break.

* * *

He's definitely sleep deprived and cannot be held accountable for his actions, because nothing can really explain why he enters the coffee shop.

Because he hates coffee. Like how he hates his boss. And most things.

The fresh aroma that immediately hits him promises him of good caffeine, but that is still no reason. The shop is fairly comfortable with records lining the walls and a turntable set in the corner. The redhead is behind the counter when he walks in, and he self consciously straightens his creased shirt and squares his posture to look, well, less like he hadn't slept at all.

"Mornin' sunshine," redhead flashes him the brightest grin he's seen, and he decides that today is going to be even shitter than it already is. "I'm Lavi," and the guy holds out his hand for him to shake.

Kanda raises an incredulous eyebrow and stares at it like its alien. He just came for maybe a cup of tea, not thrown a name like in Starbucks. Or was that the other way round?

"Your name, beautiful," Lavi chuckles, and Kanda eyes the number of bracelets the other has around his wrist with distaste, because the colours are making his tired eyes cross and him dizzy.

Wait. What? "What the fuck did you just call me?"

"I'm just trying to introduce myself, seeing I'm new on the block and all," the redhead grins easily, ignoring the hostility. "It'd be nice to have a few regulars, if ya know what I mean."

Still, that shouldn't warrant that green eye from looking at him up and down, like he was being _checked out_. Kanda isn't oblivious to how he looks, from his unnaturally inky long hair and structured features, and really, he should be used to it by now, but for some reason he feels warmer than usual. Definitely not because of that cocky grin, glinting emerald eye or that smooth toned chest—no, those were just _annoying_.

"I'm not a fucking woman, so quit it," he snaps. "I want tea. Green if you have it. Make it quick, I got shit to do."

Lavi laughs and Kanda is secretly weirded out, because all of his colleagues when faced with his cold attitude shrink in the corner and avoid him.

"Yep, knew that," Lavi answers cheerily, turning back to tinker with some things, things that Kanda assumes will make his tea. "A lawyer, huh?" he hums to himself, though he gives Kanda an easy smile. "From Walker & Leverrier?"

"What is it to you?" Kanda returns coldly, already regretting the moment he stepped in ten times over.

He's so tired he really feels that he could pass out, but he really doesn't want to yawn in public, as ridiculous as it sounds.

"Didn't think you were the type to go for corporate," the other answers casually, now tipping milk into the cup he is holding.

Kanda frowns because he hates milk in tea. Besides, that had better not be green tea or it'd be an abomination. He swallows, because yeah, he never thought he'd be a corporate lawyer either, but look where he is now.

"You don't know me."

"Like I don't know your name," Lavi is offering the cup now, but just holding it out of reach when Kanda moves to take it. "Come on, you."

He blames it on the lack of sleep, because the retort just rolls off his tongue. "Don't call me by my first name, asshole!"

A wide green eye blinks at him stunned, and Kanda tries to take his drink but fails because the other holds it protectively against his chest now. "But I didn't—I…what, you?" he furrows his eyebrows. "How's that your name?"

"Forget it," Kanda growls, cursing himself. "The name's Kanda and can you just pass me the fucking cup so I can pay you? I need to get back to work."

"Alright…_Kanda_…" Lavi pronounces it slowly, rolling it over his tongue sensually and Kanda wants to hit him just for that. "Here, and it's on me."

Kanda almost spits that he can pay for his own drink, but when he glances at it he know it's not what he ordered.

"I said tea, you idiot."

"As you see, dearie," Lavi rolls his eye, but he's still smiling. "This is a coffee shop, I make fabulous _coffee_," he stresses. "The best damn coffees ever."

"I fucking hate coffee," Kanda scoffs, and sets it back on the table. "Whatever, this is a waste of my time."

"Oh come on, Yuu. If you hate it I'll make you another."

Kanda just _freezes_—because. What. The. Fuck.

The redhead must've sensed the confusion, because he chuckles. "Yeah, I got a couple of Asian pals and I know what your first name can be," he explains. "It really isn't that hard to figure out, ya know."

"Whatever," Kanda says again for the lack of anything to say, and he turns to leave and never come back.

"You forgot your drink!" Lavi calls helpfully, scrambling from behind the counter to block his way, thrusting the cup into his general space. "Come on, just one sip. You look like you could use a bit of perking up."

So what if he really feels like death is a better option than to sit through a few more hours at work?

"If you _realllyyyy_ hate it then I'll brew you some tea," the redhead promises, sliding way too close into his personal space. "Free for the entire week."

Well. If there is something free in return then Kanda isn't an idiot to pass it up. He grudgingly swipes the cup and takes a sniff, and frowns. The smell is a far cry from those cheap cans of coffee he first started out with in the first year of law school—and then later decided was too shitty and got addicted to caffeine pills instead (bad idea). It actually smells _delicious_ in a weird weird way.

Eyeing the froth that pictures a heart shape, he takes a cautious sip.

It's hot but not scalding, just the nice side of warm that instantly makes his eyes slide close. It doesn't taste like anything he's tasted before—bitter, but not horrifyingly so, with a dark sweetness to it. Kanda swallows. There is also a subtle nutty flavor that makes the after taste strangely satisfying. He takes another whiff.

"…."

He doesn't want to admit it, but it's actually _good_.

Even if he hates coffee.

"What the hell's inside this crap?"

"Secret ingredient," Lavi says, putting a finger to his lips. "But other than that, almonds and a little bit of dark chocolate. And maybe four espressos."

Kanda suddenly realises that everything around him looks clearer, and he actually can even feel his toes. "Huh."

If anything, the amount of caffeine in the coffee would be helpful.

But, if Kanda wanted to be truthful, there's really no reason why he shoves the redhead aside and walks out with the coffee, feeling light on his feet. Also, he doesn't realize he hasn't paid for the coffee until three hours later, when he finds himself staring out of the window for the fifteenth time.

* * *

It doesn't really explain why Kanda starts going in to that coffee shop every morning.

He hates coffee. He really does.

He's hated it ever since the first term of college when he stayed up ruthlessly butchering through three essays at once, because his professors are bitches and evil and loved to see their students drown in helpless misery. He had thought the drink might be a mighty companion, but au contraire, the first horrible can he drank didn't stop him from accidentally sleeping on his laptop—and genius him, he had forgotten to _save_ the documents. Needless to say it was a horrible aftermath.

Then he resorted to getting a cup from the café outside the library because even if canned coffee was cheap, it was shit, and then he accidentally drank too much and suffered from insomnia for the resulting three days afterward.

Then he discovered caffeine pills and since his relationship with coffee hadn't been the most promising, he had severed all ties with it.

But, he finds himself standing in front of the one eyed smiley redhead who winks—or blinks, he can't tell—too much.

Every time he orders tea, but he _never_ gets it—on Wednesday he gets some kind of coconut-caramel concoction (he kind of likes coconut, that's the only reason, really); on Thursday Lavi makes him some kind of chai-spiced latte, and on Friday as he sips a café macchiato topped with cinnamon, it dawns upon him that he hasn't drank this much coffee since…well, that traumatic time.

But because his upcoming tobacco case is pretty shit, he figures all this caffeine is what he needs. Or at least that's what he tells himself as he replies the email to his shitty client.

"Kanda, sorry to disturb you, but I need—…are you smiling?"

Kanda pauses in his sip, narrowing his eyes at the intruder at his door. "Can't you fucking knock the door, Moyashi?" he demands, setting the cup down almost hastily.

"I did knock, and it's _Allen_!" The man at the door huffs irritatedly, but then curiosity wins. "It smells like coffee in here but you hate coffee…are…are you drinking—"

"If you have no good reason to be here, then get the fuck out."

Allen rolls his eyes like he's used to the treatment (he is), and flicks at the bangs of his white hair. "I need a stapler. My bullets ran out."

"Then get one from the secretary, loser."

"But she needs it. She's filing the List of Documents and—y-you're smiling! Again!" Allen accuses, this time, looking vaguely horrified instead of confused.

Kanda nearly chokes, because he's brought the cup to his lips again. "I'm not fucking smiling," he denies, and flings the stapler into the other's face. "Here. Now get out."

But of course, Allen—Allen Walker—doesn't listen to him. Kanda hates the kid. He calls him the kid or brat or beansprout or anything really, because he hates the guy. Allen is the son of Mana Walker, now deceased, but his dad was the co-founder of Walker & Leverrier. That automatically means that the boy—he doesn't even look fifteen for Christ sake, Kanda's suspicious that he even graduated from high school—with oddly bleached white hair (a punk is a punk, it's not natural, the _lies_) and really weird scar/tattoo/thing on his face, gets a training contract at the firm fresh out of college without an interview or any of the shit that _Kanda_ had to do to get his.

Everyone at the office, of course, loves Allen. Except Leverrier, his dick boss, because his boss, as he has mentioned, is a _dick_.

It's the only reason why he and Allen are grudging frenemies, because both of them have friendly competitions to outbitch their boss. And maybe the kid is actually more competent than most of the other attorneys and has somewhat of a personality and doesn't cower whenever he snaps at him.

"You're in a better mood today," Allen observes, rubbing his chin with the caught stapler in hand. "Did we win a case that I don't know about? Or did you make partner? Or wait, better yet, did you—" he widens his eyes and lowers his whisper. "—get laid?"

"Fuck you," Kanda says with a sniff, and drinks more of the dammed coffee.

Allen laughs, but he stops when he squints at the cup. "Hammer Time?" he reads, blinking. "Is that from that coffee shop across the street?"

When there is no answer, Allen sniffs the air, and his stomach rumbles. "But, you hate—"

"I said shut up," Kanda grounds out.

"I want to try some," the white haired boy declares, and he steps closer to Kanda, to which the Japanese did not react well. "Especially if it has magical, _life changing_ properties. After all, it made you _smile_."

"What the fuck—get your own, Moyashi!" Kanda clutches the cup almost protectively on reflex, because he really needs the caffeine to stay awake okay, and somewhere he knew it was another mistake.

* * *

"Oh wow, this is a surprise," Lavi winks when Kanda and Allen come through the door in the evening. "And you brought a customer for me? I'm so touched, Yuu."

"Quit it with my first name, usagi," Kanda growls, a tick in his eyebrow. "I'm here because bitching brat here wouldn't shut up. Here it is, across the fucking road," he sniffs at Allen. "I can _leave_."

"He calls you by your first name? You made a friend!" Allen cries, pressing his palms on his face. "And here I thought BaKanda was incapable of any social interaction. You surprise me, darling, you really do," and he ducks the swipe Kanda aims for the back of his head. "Don't mind him, err—" he looks at the redhead at the counter with a smile.

"Lavi," the redhead answers, sounding amused. "At your service. Are you Yuu's colleague?"

"Uh huh," Allen nods. "Allen Walker, nice to meet you. I saw Mr Grumpy here smiling to himself this morning and it was all thanks to your coffee," he explains, and jumps out of the way when Kanda tries to kick him. "I had to try the miracle myself."

"I wasn't," Kanda scowls, but everyone ignores him.

"Smiling, huh," Lavi murmurs with a smile, and grins at Kanda lazily. "Haven't seen one on you yet," he comments, turning to the espresso machine. "Up for round two? I promise to blow your mind _again_, baby."

"I don't want—"

"If you can keep up," Lavi grins wider.

"I can take you on any day, idiot," Kanda scowls further, cracking his knuckles. "I'll give you a facial you'll never forget."

Allen chokes on his saliva and gurgles, because _huh_, his colleague wasn't as frigid as he assumed. More maybe he was just dense. Allen tended to bet on the latter.

Lavi takes it all in stride. "One day," he smiles. "Ah, Allen, you wanted a cuppa, didn't you?" he asks as his hand move around the counter. "Any allergies? Lactose-intolerant?"

"No, but I do prefer soy," Allen admits, then he realises he hasn't ordered anything.

The redhead smirks knowingly and sets forth a perfect blend minutes later. "I took a shot in the dark with pistachios and caramel. Do tell."

Allen blinks when he takes the first sip, and the exhale he gives after is long and dazed. "Oh. _Oh_."

"Shut that mouth—no one wants to see it, brat," Kanda grumbles, and he isn't really sure why he's still there.

"But, this—this, it's _fantastic_," the younger male says, sounding miles away. "I do apologize, Lavi, because I doubted your ability to perform miracles, but this certainly warrants _Kanda's_ smile."

"I'll fucking kill you—"

"This coffee would revive me," Allen argues. "I'll definitely come by again. How much for the cup?"

Lavi laughs. "If you're gonna be a regular, this one's on me."

"How the fuck do you even turn a profit?" Kanda demands, eyebrows furrowed.

He suddenly remembers that he hasn't paid for a single drink the past week, and that's maybe why he's there now, to _pay_. Kanda's studied Economics in high school and he knows that giving free shit isn't going to help the business—not that he cares, the shop can burn—and it really doesn't take a genius to know that earnings need to cover cost to churn a profit.

"I don't give everyone free drinks," Lavi rolls his eye. "Only for you, Yuu."

Kanda doesn't really know if it's a joke, and he's definitely _not_ affected by the disgustingly cheesy line.

"Don't be stupid, he'll never go out of business," Allen sighs as he drinks yet another mouthful. "I feel _enlightened_."

"We're leaving," Kanda decides finally, dragging the shorter man by the scruff of his neck. "You look like you're on the verge of orgasm, and fuck, I don't want to see that."

"You mean like yours when you first came?" Lavi leans forward, palm on his cheek.

Kanda freezes, and grips the boy's neck harder. The redhead is looking at him with a teasing grin, one that is starting to give him a weird feeling in his throat, and he really hates it. There's really no explanation why he feels uncomfortably warm, but maybe that's because he's getting overwhelmed by the amount of idiocy he had stood in for the past fifteen minutes.

He storms out without another word, with Allen chuckling around his cup.

"See ya next week, Yuu!" Lavi calls happily from the door.

* * *

_and let your thoughts run free_

_there is so much to see_


	2. Chapter 2

_if you can't fly high, no need to feel low_

_look at the sky, and up there you'll go_

* * *

Generally, Kanda hates the weekends less than weekdays. That's because he doesn't need to deal with annoying people in the office and his boss, but because his boss is the biggest asshole in the universe, he finds out that Tokusa, another attorney who has worked there longer than Kanda has, just got fired after their little trip to the coffee shop in the evening.

It kind of sucks because Tokusa was one of the lesser idiots of the Trio—dubbed _Third_ because all three of them had been through the same law school and then same firm after—Madarao and Goushi, but he was also an asshole, so Kanda didn't really feel that bad after all.

Not until his fucking boss forwarded him Tokusa's case—which he should be glad that he's taking another, _but_ he already has his brain strangled by the fucking tobacco case that is full of shit and deserves to lose but Kanda _doesn't_ lose.

And then he finds out that Tokusa is the worst organizer in the world, the notes and emails are in a huge mess and Kanda really hates that. For many reasons, because he doesn't actually know what the case _is_.

That's how he spends his Friday night and Saturday relabeling and sorting everything, and when he wakes up past two on Sunday staring at his blank ceiling, he groans and buries his head back into his pillow. He wants to _do_ something other than work, and he isn't even sure if his body is physically in shape to do Kendo anymore.

So then, he bakes.

It's totally a secret, because if anyone knew he could bake it'd just be _disastrous_. For his life. It's such a…girly hobby but he likes the way everything is orderly and structured and _easy_. It's mechanical work to sort out the ingredients he needs to use, and then measure them perfect to the milligram. There' something very soothing about how he kneads the dough, killing it under his fingers. Of course when he found out he could bake better bread then the ones he swiped from the convenience store, he never looked back, not until his work took over his life and he had no time anymore.

Kanda makes a few loaves of focaccia with olive oil and a dash of chili flakes. He makes garlic ciabattas, walnut bread, granny sticks with sesame seeds. He even bakes baguettes with raisins, and sourdough bread with olives. And then he sees the unused cinnamon in his shelf and decides to make hot cross buns, even if he doesn't like sweet bread.

When his stomach groans at past eleven because he's forgotten to eat dinner while he was baking through evening and into the night, he stops sifting the flour and looks around his kitchen.

Bread is lining all over his counter and even into the living room when he moved some over to cool as there was no space, and that's when he realises he might have baked a little too much.

* * *

Kanda doesn't waste food.

It's a thing.

He just doesn't.

That's the only reason why he's clutching a box when he kicks the door open to that coffee shop he's been frequenting against his will early on Monday morning. The chalkboard isn't outside yet and the sign on the door says closed, but the door swings open and Kanda would really rather prefer to do this while there aren't any customers standing around.

"Oh, hey, Yuu," Lavi greets him, as he's wiping the tables, surprised. "Had to see my handsome face first thing in the morning?"

Kanda regrets stepping in, like he's regretted all the times the past week. "Shut up. Look," he begins, feeling strangely flustered. "I-I…had some stuff and I don't want it. So."

"Stuff?" Lavi hums, setting the cloth down.

"Just…just, look, just take it," Kanda shoves the box into the confused man's arms. "You can sell it or give it to that hobo down the street or whatever, I don't care. Just, just don't fucking throw it away."

The raised eyebrow he gets in return doesn't really help. Lavi shifts the box under one hand and opens it, blinking rapidly. The smell of fresh bread is still prominent, and the redhead takes a hot cross bun and takes bite, chewing it. The noise that comes out of his mouth is definitely _not_ appropriate, and Kanda plants his eyes on the wall steadfastly.

"Yuu, oh _god_," Yeah, he's really trying not to think of anything else. "Oh fuck, did you, did you make these? For _me_?"

"I didn't make them for you!" Kanda immediately snaps. "I haven't baked in a while and I had some time and I…I just made too much. Or something. Fuck, give it back here, I'll—"

"No, no, no!" Lavi waves him away, clutching the box tightly. "I'm selling these. You said I wasn't reaping a profit right? Wrong, but whatever, I'm making so much fucking dough today," he sings, bringing it behind the counter. "I knew you were a worthy investment, Yuu!"

"I-I wasn't—I'm not a fucking investment!"

The redhead nods, taking another huge bite from his bun, and there goes the moan again. "You're more than that, sweetheart. I'll make you free coffee for the rest of your life if you'll bake for me."

Kanda sniffs, because he's worth more than that, he thinks. "I hate coffee."

"Uh-huh."

He only realises it's a patronizing agreement when the redhead slides over a steaming cup. He grabs it and ignores the knowing grin sent his way as he glares his way out.

* * *

Kanda's life is shit.

He stares at the computer screen for too long that he gets a headache, and then he pops some pills to quell it and suffers a secondary headache from drug withdrawal. He types so much that he nearly jams his keyboard. The paperwork on his desk piles up every day and the secretary is too slow.

Tokusa has the stupidest case in history that Kanda doesn't even need to think who's going to win it—the client is a loser who accepted a bill of exchange drawn on a limited company, but omitted the words 'limited'—of course he's fucking going to lose the case, and he doesn't understand _why_ Tokusa was even on it. He also suffers a horrible meeting with his own nicotine loving client who insists on sitting too close and stares at him with the creepiest leer ever.

At the end of the week he find himself in the coffee shop in the evening, because wifi in his office is crap and he's nearly dead on his feet _and_ his caffeine pills are at home—and he frowns when he finds out that the shop is much more crowded than he's used to, and then regrets it all when he's being greeted by a familiar girl at the counter.

"Kanda-kun!"

Oh fuck no.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, surprised. "Don't you hate—"

"Shut up," he grounds out quickly. "I need to stay awake for another four hours. Give me the strongest thing you've got, I don't care what."

"Oh, you know Lenalee, Yuu?" Lavi saunters in from the backdoor, apron around his waist. "She's been working here part time in the afternoons since yesterday."

"He's a childhood friend. My brother and his father were friends—"

"_Foster_ father," Kanda corrects immediately.

"Were?"

"Well, um," the Chinese bit her lip softly. "Tiedoll-san passed away."

"Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry," Lavi babbles quickly. "I really didn't mean to pry, I mean—"

"Shut up, it's over," Kanda growls out. "I don't want to hear it. Are you going to give me something or am I going to leave?"

"Calm your pants," the redhead eases a grin. "I'm on it, darling."

Kanda crosses his arms and scoffs when Lenalee looks at him curiously. "How have you been, Kanda-kun? You really should come over for dinner—Nii-san hasn't seen you for ages."

"Fine," he answers shortly. "And I'm not stepping anywhere near your creepy brother. Not after his fucking robot tried to cut my fucking hair."

"Tragedy," Lavi calls out as he heats up the milk. "Yuu won't be the same without his beautiful hair!"

Lenalee quirks a smile, but the look she sends Kanda is suspicious, and Kanda does not like that look at all. "Do you want to sit in for a while? You look really tired."

"No, I have work to do," he says automatically. "The fucking wifi is shit and the internet keeps crashing. I need to get the fucking email sent."

"Well," Lenalee smiles widely. "We have wifi here…"

"And I kind of made your coffee in a mug," Lavi says, sounding not very sorry at all. "Can't let you steal company property, even if it's Yuu."

"I'll bring it back," Kanda states. "Give it here."

"You're a corporate lawyer," the redhead smiles. "Can't trust you."

The Japanese scowls and turns on his heel, ignoring any protests behind him. Ten minutes later he's got his laptop and charger in his briefcase in hand at the coffee shop, and he plants himself right in the secluded corner with a big spotlight above. When the line of customers at the counter disappears, Lavi carries a mug and a plate of scones with clotted cream over.

"I didn't ask for that."

"Did you eat lunch?" Lavi asks. "Better yet, were you even planning to eat dinner?"

Kanda glares. "Does it matter?"

"If you don't eat it I won't give you your coffee."

It's only two weeks that he's discovered this coffee shop and only two weeks that he's been grudgingly drinking fucking awesome coffee everyday and only two weeks that he realises he's absolutely hopelessly _addicted_ to it.

He wants to kill himself.

Instead, he breaks the scone in half and slathers on some cream and takes a bite. "Too dry," he criticizes. "And you need to keep the cream cool, idiot."

"I ordered those," Lavi says. "I can't bake, not like you," he laughs a little. "Can I hire you? I mean, Monday was _amazing_—I had people coming from Oxford to buy your bread—" A lie, Kanda knows. "Plus my coffee and like, I ran out of milk. I'll give you all the money I earn from selling your stuff, I—"

"I've already got a job," Kanda reminds him. "Give me the mug and go away. I need to finish this shit."

Lavi pouts, but sets his cup down on the table. "Knock yourself out. I'll be at the counter if you're up for round two."

Kanda sharply turns his eyes back to his screen when he finds himself staring at the redhead's back as other way walks away whistling. He's not here because of the coffee. He's definitely not here because of Lavi.

It's because his office is giving him a headache and the wifi is horrible and he really needs the wifi.

It's the wifi.

* * *

The wifi is still wonky three weeks later, and that's the only reason why he finds himself at the same table every day after six when he curses the hell out of his lagging internet browser. Lavi or Lenalee would bring him a cup and a pastry that he'll criticize, and they leave him alone after that to do his work. He always stays till the shop closes—because he still hasn't finished his work, what else?

Some days Lavi will keep the shop open for him just slightly longer so he can finish up a last paragraph or so, and that's when the redhead throws himself into the seat opposite and cracks a book open—and Kanda notices it's a different book every time.

Which is creepy, because there's no way anyone can go through books that fast.

This time, the redhead is reading _Storm of Swords_, the third book of the _Song of Ice and Fire_ and he's only in the beginning.

"Robb dies," Kanda says, because he's an asshole.

Lavi jerks up in shock, and he actually looks _offended_. "Yuu!" he cries indignantly.

"Joffrey dies," Kanda says again, because he's a really big asshole.

"Shut up, Yuu, _shut up_," the redhead huffs, shutting the book with a snap.

"Tyrion—"

This time, Lavi launches at Kanda, clamping a hand over the other man's mouth. Kanda's smirk immediately gets wiped off when Lavi's foot comes into contact with his shin by accident. Lavi is heavy—the man is taller than him after all, and having a lapful of the redhead isn't the most comfortable thing in the world, especially when the other somehow had tripped and is straddling him in the most compromising position ever.

Kanda is too shocked to move, but Lavi still has his hand clamped tight around Kanda's mouth, other hand gripping his shirt tight in a bid to balance himself. Kanda can _smell_ him—like coffee beans and a touch of spice—and that one green eye is trained on him.

"Uh, Lavi-kun?" Lenalee has her coat on and bag slung over her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry! So sorry!" Lavi yelps, scrambling to get off but actually just squirms on the other's lap before he manages to shift off. "I-it's Yuu's fault!" he says a second later, pacing around in a huff. "Quit spoliering me!"

Kanda adjusts his shirt for the lack of anything better to do. "Don't blame me for your stupidity."

Lenalee only chuckles. "Uh huh. I'm taking my leave first. I'll see you two next week!"

She's still giggling to herself when she skips out of the door.

"I-I'm leaving," Kanda coughs, hastily stuffing his laptop into his bag when awkward silence reigned after.

"Y-yeah, uh, sure," Lavi nods. "I'll, uh, see you on Monday."

* * *

On Saturday night, Kanda glances at his kitchen and scowls at the trays of bread he's baked in the afternoon. It's just, he woke up in the morning and went about his kitchen searching for coffee—but then, he's never owned anything related to coffee.

It's all the stupid redhead's fault.

Stupid free coffee.

Stupid free delicious coffee.

He hadn't paid for a single coffee yet. And he knew Lavi could've chased him out all those times he stayed past the official closing hours. Fuck, that kind of means that he _owes_ the rabbit.

It's not a big deal to bake in return.

Not really.

* * *

It actually bugs Kanda enough that he finds himself standing outside the shop on Sunday morning, even if he has a ton of work to do and papers to print and really, the bread can keep for another day but he reasons that he doesn't want to wake up extra early on Monday.

The shop sign says closed, and Kanda reads the print on the glass windows for the first time.

_Closed on Sundays._

Of course, there had to be a break sometime in the week. Feeling foolish and stupid, Kanda grips the box he's holding tighter and stalks back to his car. He stops when he sees the familiar tuft of flaming red hair holding a helmet and swinging his legs over a motorcycle. It seems like Lavi sees him too, because the redhead smiles widely and hops off his ride.

"Yuu! Hey, whatcha doin' here?"

He really doesn't want to admit that he came to give him a free box of baked bread, so he keeps his mouth shut and scowls.

"Is that for me?" Lavi looks at him hopefully, grinning as he takes the box happily, and almost squeals when he sees what's inside. "You really do love me, don't cha?"

"Don't be a fucking idiot," Kanda snaps immediately. "It's leftovers. I-I just thought I could dump it at your place instead of cluttering my kitchen."

"Well, you're lucky I came by to check on the soy stock," Lavi says, taking out key from his pocket and twirling it around his finger. "I can keep it in the kitchen. Come on."

Kanda stands awkwardly as he watches Lavi shift things to place the bread, and he eyes the huge oven—larger than his—and the empty trays around, all unused. Lavi seems to notice his gaze.

"You can use it if you want," he shrugs. "I can give you the key, all I ask is that you leave some for me to sell."

Kanda looks at him oddly. "…Why would you do that?"

Lavi blinks. "Why not?"

"As in," the lawyer frowns deeper. "I'm a fucking customer. I'm not your assistant or some shit. You can't just give your key like that!"

"It's not like it's my apartment," Lavi rolls his eye, and Kanda's pretty sure that logic is flawed too. "Though, if you want—" the redhead starts with a mischievous grin.

"Shut up."

* * *

Sometimes he uses the shop's kitchen.

Sometimes.

Because it's bigger and wider and Kanda can clear his own shelves to put other things like soba flour. He doesn't need to worry about making a mess in his kitchen because the mess is somewhere else—and there's definitely an upside to having the space to move around. He doesn't need to bother carting the bread to the shop on Mondays either, leaving it on the counter to cool. He comes in sometimes on Sundays when he's so sick of staring at his screen, when he knows the shop is empty and no one will bother him.

He doesn't tell Lavi when he comes in.

But Lavi would smile at him knowingly on Monday mornings as he hands over a new concoction—Kanda hasn't drank the same thing twice—and a slice of his baked warmed up bread.

It's for the free coffee, he decides.

* * *

_no cares to care and no races to run_

_no time to change and no time to learn_


	3. Chapter 3

_flying up in the air_

_and no time to wonder where_

* * *

There's once, his boss decides that he should meet his client on a Sunday when it's clearly not his working hours—because the client insisted, and Kanda's really just an employee under the firm. He really doesn't want to see that creepy tanned Portuguese who keeps staring at his mouth when he speaks. If he had his way, he'd tell the guy straight out that the case was meant to burn, but, he'd get fired.

And so Kanda enters the coffee shop on a Saturday with the intention to stress bake, when the café is only open till mid afternoon. He's surprised to see a line out the door, because even if the coffee shop does have a lot of customers, most of them do takeaway and the service is really quick. Business must be good on Saturday, he assumes, but when he steps in, Lenalee looks like she wants to cry out of relief.

"Kanda-kun!" she waves him over hurriedly. "Oh thank god you're here, I really need your help—could you, um," she quickly gives the next customer in line who looks a little impatient a smile. "Ah, yes, that'll be three pounds, please—"

She's trying to juggle the register as she zips around heating milk and pressing buttons on the espresso machine with flustered actions. Kanda notices the lack of redhead around.

"Where's the usagi?"

"He overslept," Lenalee explains. "He sounded pretty bad over the phone—I think he caught the flu. Please, Kanda-kun, just until he arrives? Please!"

Because he really can't say no to Lenalee (there are no other reasons), he sighs. "Fine. You make the damn drinks, because I can't."

Lenalee hugs him tight in joy and focuses on making the coffees—no specials today, unfortunately. He refuses to wear the apron that Lavi usually wraps around his waist—because it's pink with a stitched bunny on it—but he does take up place at the register and tries not to glare too much at the customers. It runs much smoother after that, and they forget about Lavi until the man himself stumbles in about an hour later.

The redhead doesn't have his hair up as usual and so it falls messily around his face, but that brilliant red can't be anyone else. He lets out a cough that Kanda winces at, and his voice sounds close to sandpaper.

"Yuu?" he blinks, looking really confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving Lenalee's ass," Kanda replies, narrowing his eyes. "You look like shit."

"Thanks," Lavi mumbles. "Am I dreaming? Why are you behind my counter?"

"Go home, usagi. You're going to infect everyone in this fucking place," Kanda states when the redhead sneezes abruptly.

"Oh dear, how did you even manage to ride here?" Lenalee frowns, wiping her hands after they've served the last customer in queue. "We can handle this. Go home and get some rest, Lavi."

"Nah, it's only for a couple of—" he sneezes again, and other two wince. "—of hours, and I'm already here," he smiles, looking a bit out of it. "Thanks Yuu, but I can take over—"

"Shut up, you idiot," Kanda groans, and slaps a hand over the redhead's forehead when he ambles behind the counter. "You have a fucking fever, why the fuck did you even leave your goddamn house?"

"I've got some paracetamol in my bag," Lenalees announces, hurrying to the back doors and out again in a minute with a box in hand. "Take some. Kanda-kun, I think you should bring him home. I can handle the rest of the hours by myself."

"But, but I just came—"

"You shouldn't have left," Kanda snorts.

"But coffee—"

"Lenalee can handle it—"

"But _my_ coffee—"

"Shut up, usagi!" Kanda rubs his temples, eyebrows furrowed. "If you die today you can't make anymore so just go home."

"Die? I'm not going to die," Lavi repeats warily.

"Tch, you look like you're going to."

"But—"

Lenalee places a hand on Lavi's shoulder and looks at Kanda meaningfully. Kanda presses his lips together because he doesn't want to do it but Lenalee is looking at him like _that_ he knows it's a lost cause. He sighs wearily.

"Come, you stupid rabbit," he says, grabbing Lavi by the collar and dragging him out of the shop. "We're going."

"But—"

Lenalee smiles at them both, waving from the counter.

* * *

"Oi, wake up," Kanda prods the sleeping redhead in the passenger seat. "We're here. Wake up."

Lavi wakes up with a sneeze, one that Kanda really hopes he doesn't get infected with because if he falls sick he's going to be so fucking screwed. Lavi takes a while to assert his surroundings—in Kanda's car outside his apartment.

"Ah," he says. "Um, Yuu…" he starts, looking ghastly apologetic. "Thank you. You didn't have to cover for me at work and—"

"That was for Lenalee," Kanda corrects.

"—and thanks for driving me home. I'll…make it up to you. Somehow."

"I don't want anything from you," the Japanese snorts. "If you die then Lenalee loses her job then there's no telling what her psychotic brother will do."

"Even so," Lavi says, and tries to smile as much as he can through his daze of sickness. "Thanks."

"Shut up and get out," Kanda says, ignoring how suddenly uncomfortable he feels like Lavi looking at him like that.

He also fights the strange urge to help the other out when the redhead drags his feet out, coughing all the way.

* * *

More evidence that his boss is a dick: there has been a new addition to the firm by the name of Howard Link. Kanda wasn't even aware they were hiring—even if Tokusa just got fired, it didn't mean that they needed more attorneys, especially since they already had a couple of trainees under contract.

Howard Link is the most straight laced blond Kanda has ever observed. The man seems competent—or maybe too competent to the point of obeying every single order that comes out of Leverrier's mouth and Kanda really hates people like that.

It kind of means that there is more competition to make partner, and frankly, even if Kanda is the one who works the hardest and wins the most cases, as long as his boss is an ass, he's never going to make it.

Unless you're Link, the lucky son of a suck up bitch who seems to be the most likely candidate after being hired for two days.

* * *

It's all Lavi's fault that Kanda falls asleep on his laptop on Wednesday, because he's become a coffee addict and thus cannot function without coffee anymore. He still enters the shop in the morning as usual, but when he sees only Lenalee at the counter he ensures he does not accidentally ask about the redhead. Lenalee makes him standard coffee—in which he re-discovers his hate for coffee—and doesn't touch one after that.

And also because she makes him pay.

"Kanda?"

Someone shakes his shoulder lightly and he jolts up, glaring. "The fuck?"

Allen rolls his eyes, taking a comfortable lean against the table. "Good morning, darling."

"What do you want?"

"I thought you might want some dinner," the younger male says. "You haven't stepped out of the office since this morning—the secretary told me she was afraid you died in here or something."

"Go away, I need to finish this paragraph," Kanda snaps, rubbing his eyes.

"You can finish it after you eat something," Allen argues. "Or at least slept a while. You look, like, well…" he trails off unsurely. "Like you're suffering from caffeine withdrawal," he grins. "You really _are_ addicted to Lavi's—"

"Shut up," the Japanese says. "You're just here because Komui tried to kill you."

It was the white haired male's turn to scowl. "I-I wasn't trying to do anything to Lenalee!"

Kanda scoffs. "Tell it to someone who cares, pervert."

Allen glares, but it melts to a knowing look that Kanda really does not like. "So, I was talking to Lenalee the other day, and she told me something rather interesting."

"Not interested," the other states immediately, glancing back to his screen. "If you have no food, get out."

"About Lavi's mysterious Monday bread supplier," Allen continues calmly. "She says he's oldest regular customer and he doesn't want anyone to know in case its ruins his worst deposition reputation as a cutthroat corporate lawyer. Sound familiar?"

"Fuck you," Kanda returns smoothly.

"Actually," the younger smiles. "It's nice to know you have something other than work."

It's rather odd, but the Japanese only turns silently back to his screen and all he thinks of is _yeah, me too._

* * *

On Thursday, Lavi returns to the counter, smiling bright eyed and cheery. "Are you okay Yuu?" the redhead squints at him, worried. "You look…well, you always look gorgeous, but, you look like you need some coffee."

Kanda doesn't admit to any of the statement. "Tea. Black. No sugar," he grinds out, glaring, his laptop case in hand. "Make it quick, I've got a fucking deadline."

Lavi laughs and waves him to the usual spot. "It's great to see you too, Yuu."

It's about three hours later when Kanda finally shuts his laptop with a groan and palms his entire forehead on the machine. He realises he hasn't even touched his drink, and with a peek, he notices that it's definitely _not_ tea, like he asked.

"You sure you're alright?" Lavi tilts his head at him, eye unblinking as he looks up from the book he's reading from the chair opposite him.

It's only then Kanda looks around the shop and sees it empty, and the sky outside is starting to get dark.

"Shit," he mutters, rubbing his eye. "I should get back—"

"It's fine, Yuu," Lavi shakes his head. "You really need coffee," he stresses again, eyeing the untouched drink.

Kanda sighs and grabs the mug—only because he feels guilty, that's the only reason, and he definitely does not make a noise of content as he downs the liquid that strangely tastes so good even though its cold. A pleasant tingle shoots up his nose in the after taste.

"Mint?"

"Just a little bit."

It almost kills Kanda, but he actually wants to say _thank you_. He doesn't, of course.

"Is it worth it?" Lavi asks him so quietly all of a sudden.

Kanda frowns. "What? Is what worth what?"

The redhead gestures awkwardly to his laptop. "This. Your uh, job. I mean, you just…you really seem to hate it."

"I don't—" but even Kanda can't really lie about that, because yes, he does fucking hate his job. "I- It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," Lavi retorts, frowning. "I know it's your life, but if it's not making you happy I think you should consider something else."

For a second Kanda actually thinks the redhead looks _angry_, but he could be fooling himself. It's weird and strange, because for what reason? He swallows, not sure as to how to react. He's been a lawyer since he's graduated law school and fuck if he actually wastes all that goddamn money into a degree he won't even use.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm not!" Lavi starts. "I'm just saying—"

"You can save it," Kanda snaps sharply, chair screeching with the sudden movement as he makes to get up.

"Yuu!" the redhead calls after him, but he's already walking out the door.

He feels an annoying clench in his stomach, but he ignores it as walks on.

* * *

Kanda enters the coffee shop every morning for his coffee and Lavi acts like they've never had the conversation. Which suits him perfectly fine. He still doesn't understand why he felt unreasonably jilted when Lavi brought the subject up. He's thought about the same thing a thousand times before, but why is it when those words leave the redhead's lips, it sounds a lot more…pathetic?

He still doesn't even understand why Lavi _cares_—he's just a frequent non-paying customer.

It's not like they're really friends.

* * *

Work is piling and he's going to court for that creepy Portuguese tobacco client case.

Kanda doesn't really see a way that he can win, but he knows he has to. It stresses him more when Leverrier stares at him from the glass windows of his office when he's saying a forced polite goodbye to his client after a meeting.

* * *

It happens. It actually happens.

Even though Kanda's predicted this but he's been in denial all this time.

Leverrier makes Link _partner_.

And it pisses him off to hell.

So okay, he knows his boss is an asshole with clear favoritism issues but he also can't really deny that Link is actually competent so it's actually legitimate, but still.

It just seems like all those fucking hours he's spent typing reports and dealing with shitty clients and lacking a life in general is all wasted—because then and there he knows he's never going to be promoted no matter how fucking much he works, not within the next ten years, anyway.

He forgets that he hasn't spoken to Lavi, besides the usual grunts to get his fixes in the mornings while ignoring the increasingly concerned look at the redhead gives him, for more than two months now but he basically almost rips the door open.

"I need to use your fucking kitchen," he spits out, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Fucking shit—_fuck_—"

He doesn't care about the customers around who stare at him like a mad man. He needs the oven and he needs it _now_.

It seems like even his hands are trembling with so much tension—this he realises when Lavi comes over with a frown and guides him physically backdoor.

"Deep breaths; 1…2…3..."

Lavi's voice is low, soothing and calming, and Kanda times the breaths that he takes with the numbers that Lavi counts off slowly. When he opens his eyes, he is standing in front of the counter with the mixing bowls and flour and sugar and whatever he needs to bake the stress away.

It's only about six hours later when the counters are full with pastries and his last batch is baking in the oven that he slumps on the floor with an exhausted sigh. His ponytail is almost falling out of his hair tie and his necktie loose, sleeves crumpled from where he had viciously pushed them up.

What is he doing, really?

* * *

Lavi finds him about half an hour later. "Yuu, you okay?"

"What do you think?" Kanda snorts, wiping his nose.

He nearly sneezes from the extra flour that dusts his face. Lavi flops down humorlessly beside him on the powder stained floor.

"Tell me," he says quietly. "Yuu, tell me."

Kanda shakes his head because it's stupid, it's so _stupid_.

"_Yuu_," Lavi says again, and Kanda growls.

"What the fuck am I doing?" he asks. "Fuck, I-I…" he knocks his head back hard, ignoring the pain that shoots through his skull. "I'm never going to get promoted so why the fuck did I even bother? Why the fuck did I even study fucking goddamn _law_? It's not—it's not—" he breaks off abruptly. "It's not even what the goddamn old man wanted me to do, but that's not the point, that's not the fucking point, the point is that that it's not fucking _fair_!"

"Oh Yuu," Lavi murmurs, a twist to his lips.

Kanda doesn't even think to protest when he gets pulled into a pair of very warm arms.

"When the old man died I thought his time in raising me should be should to some goddamn use and some fucking _use_ this is," he almost laughs. "Fuck, I thought I should be somewhere better than this, somewhere that actually _meant_ some goddamn shit. I work so fucking _hard_ for some stupid job that I fucking hate and—and you're right, you've always been right."

"About what?" the redhead murmurs softly, rubbing his back in circular motions.

"Everything? I hate it," Kanda hates how pathetic he sounds, but he can't help it. "I hate my fucking job, my fucking life, I just," he inhales sharply. "Fuck."

He just wants to close his eyes and pretend he could go back and make his life choices all over again. Just maybe if he didn't spend like half of his life and shit ton of money and almost his entire _soul—_just maybe he wouldn't be here clinging to the only person he knew to come to, a guy who owns the coffeeshop from across the street for fuck's sake.

But Lavi—Lavi has always been here for him. Making him free coffee, making sure he ate, allowing him to abuse the wifi and keeping the place open till late and also on weekends for his use.

"It's gonna be alright, Yuu," Lavi says, over and over again. "It's gonna be alright."

Kanda doesn't really hear anything but he does feel Lavi holding him like he's scared that he was going to break—fuck, Kanda even thinks he might, and they sit there until Lavi somehow maneuvers him out of the kitchen, into a seat and forces him to sip down some warm latte. Lavi is usually the one that fills in the silence but this time Kanda talks.

He talks about his stupid young ambition with the knowledge that he was going to hate it and did it anyway—he talks about how a month into classes in university that he wanted to quit even if he had spent a hell load of trouble getting enough loans, about how he had fainted out of exhaustion in second year and had to be hospitalized. He talks about he graduated with a law degree even though his foster father disapproved because he was already hating his life, about accidentally snapping at his soon-to-be boss on the third day he was hired. About how he hadn't been there when his foster father died because he was defending a case in court.

Lavi listens until Kanda finishes, slumping across the table.

He's so damn _tired_.

"Shit. Fuck," Kanda says when he thinks to peek at his watch. "It's late…I..." he sits up hastily. "I didn't mean to—fuck, you should go home."

It's already hitting eleven and Kanda knows for sure that the shop closes at six. He sways a little when he attempts to stand up but Lavi catches him by the nape of his neck and forces him to sit.

"Shut up, Yuu," Lavi says quietly, and he listens.

It's a blur but he ends up staring at a door that's not his door, arm slung around Lavi's neck as he's being propped up to stand. Somewhere along the way he must have fallen asleep.

"Where the fuck am I?" he asks, blinking rapidly.

He tries to clear the hazy cloud that his head is stuck into.

"My place," Lavi answers with a grunt as he struggles to find his keys, the clinking sound a sign to his victory.

"Do you want to fuck me?"

The question comes out more of a statement, flat and blunt. Kanda doesn't even know what expression he has on when he says it.

"Uh," Lavi says, jaw slack. "Um. Is this a trick question?"

"I'm at your apartment," Kanda states blankly.

"I brought you here to sleep?" the redhead answers, confused. "I mean," he corrects hastily. "You were too tired to drive, and you look like you need a lot of rest. I took your car, if that's okay. I didn't plan to do…anything to you."

Kanda doesn't stop the stare. "You didn't answer my question."

"Um, uh, yes?" Lavi coughs, decidedly looking away. "But, not today? When you're in the right state of mind and with your consent and uh, when you stop giving me that look, it's freaking me out. Did you really think I brought you back for sex, really?"

"It's—" Kanda pulls his feet along as Lavi ushers him in. "Whatever."

He thinks back to those times he'd only ever been at other people's apartments. There was never time for a relationship (in fact there was never time to even consider one), maybe just a quick fuck to de-stress, but then again it had been a really long while since his work took over his life.

He yawns, not really noticing how he wordlessly changes into a more comfortable pair of clothes that the other offers to sleep, nor does he bother when his head hits the pillows, with Lavi right beside him under the covers on the double bed.

But there is one thing he still has to ask.

"Why do you even care?"

He's not facing the redhead, but the amused voice is enough.

"It's a little late to ask that, hmm?"

* * *

_up on the moon, we'll all be there soon_

_watching the earth down below_


	4. Chapter 4

_the world is a merri-go-round_

_peacefully floating along_

* * *

The next morning is less awkward than it should be.

Kanda kind of tries to apologise but the words never really make it past his lips, because the moment Lavi spots him tumbling into the kitchen sleepily, the redhead gives him one of those trademarked wide grins and ushers him to a seat.

"Are you a pancake lover, Yuu?" the other hums happily as he returns back to the stove. "It's the only thing I can cook without burning."

"What—you," Kanda blinks, startled. "You don't have to do this," he shakes his head, intent on leaving. "I'll change and I'll be out of here and—"

"This is probably the first time I'm going to say 'you talk too much'," Lavi grins, setting forth the breakfast from the pan. "Seriously," he shoots a look. "It's no trouble, okay?"

"You didn't need this."

"To see your beautiful face in the morning?" Lavi chuckles, and Kanda hates that he actually flushes. "Really, how do you not have a bed head?" he frowns, ruffling his own hair, messing it up even further. "Why doesn't your hair tangle _at all_?"

Kanda touches his hair out of self consciousness. "How do I know?" he mutters.

"Yup, go on, twirl that strand and you'll fit the image of a pretty princess," Lavi snickers, and Kanda immediately drops the hand with a growl.

"Shut the fuck up," Kanda says instead, grabbing the coffee poured out in a mug for him and downing it quickly.

The caramel curls on his tongue and he doesn't realize the involuntary moan that he makes from the back of his throat.

"You were starting to worry me there for a second, Yuu," Lavi laughs. "It's not Yuu without your expletive vocabulary."

"Quit making puns with my name," Kanda snaps, and Lavi only chews on his pancake and smiles wider.

"…Better?"

Kanda knows most of the time he's an asshole, but this time he really can't bring himself to act like one.

He sets down the mug quietly. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Still want to talk about it?"

The look at Lavi give him makes him to want to say _everything_—and fuck, how did it all come to this? "I—no," he says softly. "I just…I just wanted, I mean, want, to be _somewhere_, you know?"

Inwardly he winces because that's probably the most pathetic thing he's ever admitted to anyone.

"That depends on where your 'somewhere' is, isn't it?" Lavi muses after some time. "For me, it's the coffeeshop. I think I've gotten far in life."

Kanda pauses, because he didn't really think about Lavi in his pre-coffeeshop days. The redhead had always seemed like the coffeeshop was _it_ for him—and it was, and made him _happy_ and Kanda had been jealous that there were people out there who could be.

"As compared to?"

"I was supposed to be a translator for the UN," Lavi says, and Kanda stares. "But it's so boring. I mean, international relations is cool and shit but there's gotta be more to just translating minutes of meetings every single day. Even my French Lit teach was more exciting and she was a 70 year old grandma."

"…"

"I can speak seven different languages," Lavi offers with a grin when only silence lingers.

"You're shitting me," Kanda states. "There's no way, no fucking way—"

"—that I can speak English, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, German, French, _and_ Latin? With complete fluency?"

"You can't speak Latin, Latin is a dead language," Kanda counters.

"_Fallaces sunt rerum species_."

"That was from a fucking _movie_."

"I knew you're a total geek, Yuu," Lavi chuckles. "For real," he rolls his eye. "I have a degree in Translation and Interpretation."

"You have a _degree_?" Kanda repeats like it's the most incredulous thing the world, and it's a miracle Lavi doesn't even look offend.

"I don't mean to brag—" it was obvious that he did, "Oxford. Masters. Full scholarship."

Kanda blinks—because there's no fucking way the guy who makes his coffee every morning is actually (a lot more) smarter than he is.

"How old are you?"

Lavi's smug smirk stretches wider. "Younger than you." At Kanda's flabbergasted expression—of which much delight was reveled in—he elaborates. "By two months," he concedes. "Lenalee told me about your birthday," he smiles. "Gramps wasn't happy when I quit, but, I've got a decent income to hold my own, so, he has no say."

"Huh," Kanda cocks an eyebrow. "So why coffee?"

"Coffeeshop romance," Lavi answers simply.

When nothing else is said, Kanda stares. "Are you seriously fucking with me?" he deadpans.

"And that I can orgasm you with coffee." It's a shit eating grin, one that the redhead has sent him once too many.

Kanda's glare sharpens and he stands up, causing the chair to screech.

"Joke!" Lavi cries when the lawyer advances towards him. "It was a—"

Kanda grabs Lavi by the collar—hard enough that the startled redhead is lifted out of his seat—and closes his mouth over the other's. Lavi makes a muffled noise out of surprise, and another one when Kanda corners him against the kitchen counter, kissing him deeper. Either it has been a while or that Lavi tastes really good, like his own blend of special coffee, or both, but Kanda doesn't let up until Lavi pushes at his chest to break the kiss, panting for air.

"Uh, wow, I, uh, wow," Lavi laughs weakly in between harsh breaths. "I was not expecting that."

"What were you expecting?" Kanda smirks just slightly, because for once Lavi looks speechless.

"More like this," Lavi says, and now Kanda finds himself pushed against the counter, with Lavi's arms trapping him.

Suddenly Kanda's aware of the two inches of height advantage Lavi has over him, and also how the redhead's body is ridiculously toned—close enough to his, at least. A hand creeps to slip up under the flimsy night shirt, skimming over his hip.

"What?" Kanda bites out when Lavi just keep staring at him.

"Maybe—maybe I shouldn't—I mean, are you consenting or—"

"Oh hell no," Kanda snorts. "I'm not a woman," he starts, eyes gleaming. "And I'm not a fucking virgin and I'm sure as hell not going to let you fuck me."

"That's rather misogynistic—" Lavi blinks rapidly, pausing. "W-what?" he looks rather deflated at the last line.

Kanda rolls his eyes and allows a smirk—one that he knows ups his sexual advantage a thousand fold (he's half ashamed to admit that he uses it—with great success—to get out of undesirable situations). That's all the warning Lavi gets before the space between them disappears.

Lavi's lips are slightly wet from their earlier kiss, but that doesn't stop Kanda from licking and sucking on them. Lavi responds immediately by parting his lips obediently to allow the other's tongue to slide in, one hand burying itself into that gorgeous length of hair, and the other pulling them flush together.

He doesn't realize that he's been manipulated to move backwards towards the bedroom as they're kissing until the back of his knees hit the bedframe. There isn't time to recollect his breath when he gets pushed down upon it because Kanda is over him mouthing at his throat, and the shaky moan he lets out when the sensitive patch of skin below his ear gets sucked upon is totally not his fault.

"Oh _god_, Yuu," he gasps when Kanda unabashedly cups his erection through his pants, and his back arches off the bed for more.

"If any fucking is to be done," Kanda says into his ear and there's only self satisfaction in his baritone behind it. "I'll be doing it."

* * *

Later when Kanda finds himself groggy in the evening in Lavi's bed, sticky and smelling like sweat and sex, he closes his eyes again and wishes his life was this instead of the work he has to complete before Monday.

He allows himself ten more minutes of starting at the tattoo Lavi has on his back before he gets up, changes and leave.

On Monday, Lavi smiles at him the same way every morning with his coffee in hand.

Kanda doesn't say thanks, but it seems like the redhead knows it anyway.

* * *

One week in and Kanda just wants to _lose_ the bloody tobacco case. Except he never loses—with good reason, anyway. He always feels his soul drained by the time they're dismissed from court, the other part of the reason is that he doesn't have time to go to the coffeeshop in the mornings anymore. So he passes by once he done with work, even if it's a faster straight drive to home.

It's the fucking stupid coffee.

"Hmm, bad day?" Lavi smiles, though there is a crinkle of worry in his eye.

Kanda snorts and takes the cup that the redhead offers. It's a dark mocha this time, compete with tinge of nutty walnut and peppermint. The liquid slides smoothly down his throat, and he already feels lighter on his feet.

"Kanda-kun," Lenalee stares at him seriously, and he ignores it the best he can. "Dinner on Saturday at my house. It won't kill you."

"You just want to use me," Kanda says, and Lenalee splutters. "In case your psychotic brother beheads the Moyashi."

Lavi chuckles, because Allen and Lenalee have yet to break the news to her beloved brother about their current dating status, and the next dinner would introduce them both.

"I am not," she denies, though there is a guilty smile on her face. "Komui really misses you, you know."

"Leave me out of your mess."

Lenalee pouts, in the way that Kanda knows he will agree anyway, but the door of the coffeeshop swings open wide.

"Lenalee!"

"Allen," she greets, eyes lighting up.

The excited youth barges in, slamming his hands on the table. "It's official," he breathes out, grinning. "I'm _hired_."

Kanda raises an eyebrow. "Then what were you for the past few months?"

"Oh, BaKanda. Hi," Allen smiles in that patronizing way of his. "I'm an_ associate_ now. The same level as you."

Lavi and Lenalee break out in appropriate congratulatory squeals.

Kanda looks at him. He waits a few moments, but he doesn't feel that bubble of jealousy up his chest. In fact, he finds that he doesn't really care, actually, even if it's ridiculously unfair. "You will never reach the same level as me."

"_No one_ can reach the same level as you," Allen retorts smoothly with a grin. "Same level as the stick up your ass."

"Watch it, punk," Kanda sniffs.

But as Allen talks to Lenalee animatedly, he stands at the corner sipping his coffee, Lavi comes over to nudge him.

"I see a tiny crack there," the redhead informs him, tapping the side of his mouth. "Be careful, Yuu, if you don't want to smile. If you do, everyone will know that you _care_. Awwww."

Kanda sends the other a glare that just makes Lavi crack up in laughter. "Shut up."

"You can make me," Lavi winks. "Anytime. Anytime at all."

* * *

When it happens, Kanda realises it was probably inevitable.

Of course when it seems like his life outside of work is starting to be less shit—he manages to go through his Kendo katas twice a week now, and he's met up with Komui (not to say that dinner wasn't disastrous) and he lingers around in the coffeeshop till it's closing time when he gets off court early.

It's one of those rare days that he actually gets off work in the afternoon and decides to spend the rest of it in the coffeeshop—he doesn't even think its unnatural anymore—and discovers that the place is _swamped_. He thinks back to that article he's spotted in the paper this morning recommending this place—he had felt a tiny bit proud as his eyes skimmed over the words.

Lavi looks slightly worn out but his eye is gleaming when Kanda reaches the counter. "Please save me? I need to get the soy and Lenalee has to load the beans and I—"

Lenalee emerges from the counter carrying a heavy paper bag, melting into a smile when she sees him. "Kanda-kun, thank god—"

It's obvious that they need help and Kanda rolls his eyes. "I'm not wearing the apron."

"But I custom made one for you," Lavi pouts, patting his own. "I made the bunnies pop out, like those squishy soft toys—"

Yeah, no. "Burn it."

Lavi huffs in jest. "Thanks, anyway," he says, quickly kissing Kanda on the cheek before disappearing through the backdoors with a laugh.

Lenalee is giving him a look when he realises he's been staring into space.

"What?" he bites out, absolutely refusing to touch his face.

"Customer," she points, though the smirk on her face starts to get annoying.

He works the cash register (again) because there's no way he'll touch the coffee machine. It scares him a little to realize how easy this is—how Lavi moves around him as he serves up the coffee and how Lenalee makes small talk with him like they used to in their younger days and he actually feels comfortable and good and _maybe_, happy.

So of course that's when it happens.

"Yuu," Leverrier says, and Kanda snaps his head up with wide eyed horror. "I see why we're losing the case."

His fucking _boss_ is staring at him, sharp eyes and a thin curled sneer on his lips.

"I'd thought you won't make the same mistake as Tokusa, but it clearly seems that I am wrong."

"No, I—"

"Tell me, what are you doing here, hmm, on _my_ time?" Leverrier goes on. "Is this your second job for extra income? Do you have debts to cover for yourself or your dead father? Did you really need to be a cashier at your local café, because I really can't imagine how much he," he sends a look to Lavi. "Can be paying you—above minimum wage at least?"

Lavi growls. "He's not—"

"Because if not," Leverrier ignores him completely. "I have to ask you what the _fuck_ you are doing here."

Kanda is clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles turn white. "I just—"

"Did you forget," Leverrier continues. "about our client? Did you forget that you are _losing their case_? Did you think I wouldn't be tracking how you're doing—did you honestly think I'd let _just_ an associate take charge of that case without some control, did you?"

Kanda flinches, and Lavi's fingers smooth over his spine to ground him. Everyone is staring—the customers—fuck, so many customers, some that even Kanda recognizes—Lenalee and Lavi and they're all staring, fuck, this is so _humiliating_ that Kanda can't even—

"It—it won't happen again, I—"

"Obviously I was wrong about your competency," Leverrier hisses. "You're pulled from the case, as well as the other one that you're clearly not making any progress in."

"But—" Kanda has _never_ begged for anything in his life, and this is about the closest, ever. "You can't—"

"I just did," Leverrier states before he turns heel and walks out. "You may want to rethink your priorities before I fire you over the weekend."

There is pure silence in the shop and Kanda doesn't even know what to say for minutes. Lavi's hand rubs his spine and there is worry in his voice when he says, "Yuu?"

It's stupid, it's so fucking stupid—but all Kanda wants to do is to close his eyes and listen to Lavi's soothing voice saying his name over and name. He wants to turn around and grip Lavi tight, he wants to bury his face into Lavi's neck and breathe deeply in, the scent of warm coffee and spice and it's only because it's the only thing that would make him feel better, but—

But.

"Fuck," he says instead. "Fuck."

He moves quickly, through the back door and into the kitchen away from those staring eyes and Lavi follows him.

"Yuu, calm down—"

"How the _fuck_ am I supposed to calm down?" Kanda snarls.

"Yuu—"

"Don't," Kanda says, shaking visibly. "_Don't_. I shouldn't _be_ here, I just, fuck, I—"

"That's not true," Lavi grabs him by the arms to look at him. "You _know_ you have every right to be here," he says again. "He—he can't treat you like that, fuck, that's not—"

"That's not the fucking point!" Kanda spits. "That's not—fuck, I just wasted my entire fucking life—he pulled my _case_—"

"Why the hell are you so hung up about that?" Lavi demands. "Your boss can't just waddle in and—"

"Fuck, I was never supposed to _be_ here!" Kanda yells. "I-I don't have time to be here, I _never_ had time to be here, so why the fuck am I here when I—"

"Maybe because you like being here?" Lavi says quietly. "Maybe because it's better than killing yourself for a job that you so obviously hate—"

"I fucking knew I shouldn't have told you," Kanda hisses. "Don't throw it back in my face, you fucking asshole—"

"Actually," Lavi grinds his teeth together. "No. I haven't. I haven't once said anything since that time about how much you hate your job that I could see it on the first day I met you. I haven't said a _single_ fucking thing about why you should quit your fucking job that makes you so _miserable_ that all I want to do is to strangle you to see how fucking _stupid—"_

Kanda growls. "What the fuck is it to you, anyway?"

Lavi clicks his mouth shut for a few seconds. "I can't believe you sometimes," he says finally. The redhead cups his face gently, and Kanda freezes at the look in Lavi's eye. "Yuu," Lavi murmurs, and then he's kissing him tenderly.

Kanda forgets about Leverrier for that moment and sinks into it, because he's never felt anything like this before—like he could curl into Lavi and never let go. He makes a sound from the back of his throat that makes Lavi kiss him harder. He wants to keep kissing Lavi and he wants to be _with_ Lavi and he wants everyday—every morning and every night and everything to be like _this_ but he can't.

"I can't," He gasps, pulling back. "I-I can't do this, I—"

"You can," Lavi says, and his hand reaches to tuck a lock of hair that spills in front of Kanda's eyes. "You don't have to do this to yourself."

"I can't," Kanda repeats, and he's pulling away, ignoring the immediate burn in his chest. "I have to go."

Lavi calls after him even as he quickens his pace hastily, barging out of the front door, gaze locked on his shoes. "Yuu, just _listen_, for one fucking second, just—"

* * *

Kanda doesn't think anything can rival how shitty he felt in the aftermath of his foster father's death but it comes to a pretty close comparison.

He doesn't have much to do as Leverrier pretty much pulled his work and his colleagues whisper around him, making him feel shitter than he already does. The weekend arrives a day later and Kanda wastes half of it getting drunk and staring at the ceiling.

He can't bake because every single baking equipment reminds him of Lavi—and he doesn't even think he can step into the kitchen without feeling like throwing up. He can't bake and he can't work and so he spends a lot of hours flipping his phone open and close with his finger hovering over Lavi's number.

Allen calls at least thirty times before he gives up.

Lenalee calls at least fifty times before she gives up too.

Lavi doesn't call.

* * *

On Monday Kanda sits in his office and waits because there's going to be a meeting with Leverrier and Link in the afternoon and Kanda knows knows knows _knows_ he's going to get fired. He tries to think of ways to counter that, thinks too hard that he feels a headache forming. When his door cracks open slightly, he doesn't even realize it until the person clears his throat.

Kanda squints. "Are you firing me?"

What else, right?

"You shouldn't do this just to do it," Link says.

Link doesn't smile but he inclines his head slightly and sees himself out just as quietly.

Kanda is still staring in confusion when the door opens again.

"Get out," he mutters immediately, but of course Allen disregards that and seats himself on Kanda's table.

"Kanda, why are you a lawyer?"

"What?"

"As in, why are you practicing law?"

Kanda snorts, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. "What kind of fucking stupid question is that?"

"A simple one, really," Allen replies, cocking an eyebrow. "For example, if you asked me—"

"No one asked—"

"—_If_ you asked me," the British boy repeats more firmly with a glare. "I would tell you it's because law fascinates me. I like putting the arguments together and I like how I can deliver the case. Also," he grins. "I love the _winning_."

"Huh."

"Granted," he accedes. "We sometimes work for the least desirable people and it kills your moral code but," he smiles. "It's more about the act of practicing, personally. I love my job, Kanda. But it doesn't seem like you do."

Kanda doesn't even bother to sugarcoat his words. "I hate it," he agrees bitterly.

"So," Allen shrugs. "_Why do you practice law_? You don't _have_ to be here, you know."

Kanda stares at him. Allen is just looking back at him flatly, and it lasts for approximately two quiet minutes before Kanda blinks.

He swallows. "…You're right," he murmurs in surprise.

He doesn't _have_ to do this. He's _never_ needed to do this. Ever.

"I'm always right," Allen nods, lips twitching into a smile.

"Don't lie to yourself, Moyashi," he returns, but there isn't much heart in it.

"I'll see you later, jerk," the younger pats him on the shoulder and leaves.

It only takes Kanda fifteen minutes to pack up his office—there isn't much anyway, most of the stuff are work things he never has to deal with again in his fucking life. He ignores the secretary when she insists that their boss is busy and flings the door of Leverrier's office wide open, with no fucks given.

"The appointment is at two—"

"Don't bother," Kanda grins—and it's almost a feral _smile_. "I fucking _quit_."

* * *

He doesn't go back to the coffeeshop immediately.

He spends two days at home with the feel of Mugen under his fingers and he slices the air with practiced strokes over and over again, until the first thing he sees when he closes his eyes is the colour of Lavi's hair and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

He doesn't want to admit how much he misses the redhead until he finds himself standing in front of the coffee shop door in a casual jacket and jeans—not work clothes for once—an inevitable sigh passing out of his lips.

Lavi doesn't spot him just yet when he enters—the younger looks like he hasn't slept properly, hair patted hurriedly into his usual banana and Kanda has a million insults on his tongue on how much he hates the rows of coloured bands on his wrists.

Lenalee sees him first, and her hand automatically goes to tug at Lavi's sleeve.

Kanda almost laughs at the expression both of them give, the wide eyes, like both of them can't believe he's here. Then abruptly he remembers why he's here and he also remembers to be nervous as fuck.

"Can I get you something?" Lavi asks coolly once the shock wears off, straightening himself up.

"Tea," Kanda says, and it's ridiculous because he knows he won't get what he asks for.

Lavi stares at him for a moment, eye flicking at his clothes before a smile works at his lips. "We only serve coffees, darling."

"I quit my job," Kanda blurts. "And you, I—fuck, that's not what I wanted to say, fuck, I—"

He feels the heat rushing to his face even before he begins. Lavi, like the asshole he is, doesn't bother to hide the chuckles as he walks out from behind the counter so that Kanda is directly in front of him.

"I know I can speak seven languages, Yuu," he grins. "But I don't think even I can translate that."

"I quit my job," Kanda repeats more firmly, scowling. "And, I think I like you."

Lavi is honest to god _speechless_, because his mouth drops open, and the entire shop is staring and _Lenalee_ is staring.

"Fuck," Kanda grinds out, because he knows he's blushing and he _hates_ that. He really does. "Fuck, I don't—I don't usually, or ever, _like_ people, I mean, everyone's so fucking stupid and annoying and so are you and your goddamn _coffee_. Fuck, I still hate coffee but I…I _want_ to drink your coffee and this is so fucking stupid I can't believe I wanted you to _call_ me because you're the only thing in my life that I…" he trails off because he really doesn't know what else to say.

The silence bleeds into his ears and Kanda doesn't know if this is more humiliating than the time with his fucking _ex_ boss.

"Yuu," Lavi starts, and there's an underlay of laughter behind it. "You like me?"

Kanda refuses to answer the damn question.

Lavi takes his hand and brushes his knuckles with his thumb. Kanda ignores how ridiculously cheesy this is and also how hot his face is getting from the embarrassment, but Lavi smiles that breathtaking grin at him and he forgets how to breathe. He doesn't get to breathe either when Lavi kisses him.

For those long seconds, all he feels is Lavi's tongue in his mouth, Lavi's hands hugging his waist and Lavi's warm body pressing against his own. There's this clapping noise which Kanda thinks it's all in his head, but then when they break apart for air Kanda realises the entire café is _applauding_.

"What the fuck," Kanda mutters.

"There was a bet going on," Lavi explains, grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"What the fuck," Kanda repeats.

"For the record," Lavi laughs, holding him close. "You're antisocial, a workaholic and _rude_ most of the time, and you suck immensely at making apology speeches. And," he says, gazing at him fondly. "I know I love you."

* * *

_we'll journey to mars and visit the stars_

_finding your breakfast on Pluto_

**Fin**

* * *

**A/N: **I did think of writing a really short epilogue but it probably won't happen, maybe because it took me so long just to complete this entire fic and it's not even that long anyway. I don't know if this should be considered M—I did consider (or actually planned to) write the explicit morning after scene but didn't in the end. I don't have an issue with who's pitching or catching or whatever; I think between them it is very versatile. (anyway this time they had mutual handjobs or smth) I like them both either way but in this particular time I wanted to practice seme!Kanda for _Cantarella_ purposes.

In case you didn't figure out, but the tobacco client was actually Tyki ahahahaha /cackles mostly to self

Thank you all for reaching to the end!


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